


Body Heat

by caprisunkiri



Series: Oh Captain, My Captain (The Daichi-Centric Series) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Car Sex, Claustrophilia, Confessions, Exhibitionism, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Smut, Ukai just really likes Daichi's tits, but its still legal dw, of the nips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprisunkiri/pseuds/caprisunkiri
Summary: They used to have sex in the locker room. But at some point, Daichi felt like he needed more. Like he needed skin on skin, pinned against him so tight they meld into one. They moved to the janitor's closet—that wasn’t enough.The car is perfect.It’s tight and cramped, and when it gets hot and heavy, the windows fog. Folded into this tiny vehicle, either his thighs are on the others, chest to chest, or hiked up on a pair of strong shoulders.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Ukai Keishin
Series: Oh Captain, My Captain (The Daichi-Centric Series) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034142
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Body Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Excited to start this new series :) It'll run through the entirety of December to celebrate Kurasuno's favorite captain, Sawamura Daichi. (Sorry Ennoshita.) Happy Birthday Month, king <3\. 
> 
> Here's your fucking filth.

“All right boys, that’s a wrap!” Ukai claps twice, the sharp sound bouncing off the gym walls and echoing through Kurasuno’s empty hallways. Daichi eyes the darkened windows decorating the top of the gym, hot air puffing out of his mouth in heavy breaths. Is it night time already? 

“Good job, everyone! I’ll see you tomorrow,” Takeda says, waving from the entrance. The rest of the boys holler some semi-coherent goodbye, the majority of them sprawled out like a starfish on the floor to cool their weak limbs. 

“Ah!” Tanaka collapses against the pile of yoga mats on the floor, “My legs feel like jelly!” 

“You’re the one to talk!” Nishinoya looks down at his pale forearms—now glowing a bright pink—in horror. He pokes one with a finger and winces as it fades to a bright yellow. Even Kageyama’s slumped over on the floor, eyes and nose shadowed by the rag hung over his head as Asahi and Yamaguchi guzzle down pounds of water like camels. Tsukishima’s sprawled out across the bench in the changing room. 

And honestly, Daichi has half a mind to join him, but he drags his sweaty and sore ass into the school showers anyway. On late nights like these, it’s unlikely he’ll have enough energy to do anything except crawl right into bed and go straight to sleep. Lucky for him, he knocked the majority of his homework out during free period. 

The shower leaves him feeling a little less like shit and a little more energized. Tsukishima and Hinata are the only ones left when he returns. 

“Oh, you’re still here? I thought you left with the others,” Tsukishima says as Daichi towels off his wet hair. The third-year shrugs, blindly digging into his locker for a proper t-shirt. 

“Why don’t you shower when you get home, Daichi?” Hinata asks. 

“It’s easier,” he sums up, throwing his black shirt on over his head. “I’m too tired by the time I get home.”

The carrot haired boy nods enthusiastically, and Daichi’s just impressed he’s able to go this long without collapsing. Hinata always gives over one hundred percent in practice yet still has the energy to bike home afterward. Daichi’s only eighteen, but he can barely walk up three flights of stairs without considering giving up. 

“Well,” Tsukishima tosses his Adidas bag onto his shoulder with a final huff, “Catch you at practice tomorrow.” 

Daichi hums a goodbye, waving when Hinata announces he’ll walk out with the other. Once they leave, the tired captain yawns, rolling out his shoulder, before hiking up a bag of his own and making his way towards the entrance to close up the gym. 

He’s usually the last to leave—probably because he’s the only one that uses the showers after practice. Daichi doesn’t know the last time he’s bathed at home on the weekdays. Probably before volleyball. 

He yawns again, flicking the industrial gym lights off before pulling the key out of his pocket to lock the door. His limbs creak and ache as he does it—good thing he only has a ten-minute walk back to his apartment. He’s going to be painfully sore tomorrow. 

(The second he turned eighteen, he moved out. Like, he loves his parents to death and all, but he needs space.) 

“What time is it…” he mumbles under his breath, pulling his phone out from his back pocket. Ten-thirty. 

“Boo.” 

A pair of heavy hands around Daichi’s hips keep him from jumping ten feet in the air, and before he can yelp out in surprise, there’s a hot breath on his neck, “Don’t say a word.” 

So he doesn’t. Not when the man shrouded in darkness praises, “Good boy,” in his left ear. Not when he guides him down the stairs or into the backseat of his car. 

He doesn’t speak until the car is steadily rumbling in place beneath him as its owner crawls into the backseat to join him. “You couldn’t have just texted me to meet in your car like last time?” 

Coach Ukai grins from ear to ear, shaking his head. “Nah. Too boring. You, on the other hand...” his voice drops, raising Daichi’s body temperature ten degrees as the dirty blond glosses his canine with a tongue, “look delectable.” 

“That wasn’t sexy at all,” Daichi huffs, fighting a blush as he crosses his arms to keep his coach at a distance.

“Aw, c’mon sweetheart,” Ukai coaxes, with an unnecessarily sweet smile, “Such a tsundere. You start the night so quiet, but we both know how this is gonna end: you under me. Begging for my cock.”

Daichi struggles to suppress the whine in the back of his throat. His cleanly shaven legs start to prickle. Suddenly, he’s reminded why it took him so long in the showers this evening, why there were only two teammates left in the changing room when he’s done. Why he’s always so exhausted by the time he gets back to his apartment at night. 

Ukai’s large, manly hands wrap themselves around his waist and pull him in until he’s perched on his coach’s lap. Folding his arms around Ukai’s neck, they brush against the seat, and the soles of his feet press against the mesh pocket behind him. He hates how much more comfortable he feels, crushedagainst Ukai’s hard chest. 

They used to have sex in the locker room. “Used to” refers to a time somewhat recent, about five months ago, when Ukai caught him rubbing one out during a water break that he called himself. In Daichi’s defense, it was the day Ukai decided he was tired of watching them “flop around like a bunch of damn fish” and decided he needed to roll up his sleeves and show them “how it’s done in the real world of volleyball.” Leaving the dirty blond red and sweaty, and the noirette with a very painful hard-on. 

So, yeah. They used to have sex in the locker room. But at some point, Daichi felt like he needed more. Like he needed skin on skin, pinned against him so tight they meld into one. They moved to the janitor's closet—that wasn’t enough. 

The car is perfect. 

It’s tight and cramped, and when it gets hot and heavy, the windows fog. Folded into this tiny vehicle, either his thighs are on the others, chest to chest, or hiked up on a pair of strong shoulders. 

He’s not soft. He doesn’t go slow. Ukai is all about hard and fast and now, and Daichi’s simply tagging along for the ride. (And somehow, he mysteriously keeps hopping on.) 

But it's virtually impossible to grind his half-hard cock into Ukai’s pelvis when the dirty blond holds him in place by the hips, thumbs pressing into the bruises from last week. A hot mouth ghosts the stale black and blue mark embedded in his collarbone with a smile, “See? You’re doing it already.” 

Daichi opens his mouth to berate the older. To remind him that, _no, that’s not fair_ , but he latches onto the noirette’s throat like a leech and sucks. The volleyball captain whines immediately, making fists in blond hair to weakly tug him away. ”N-No. No marks.” 

Ukai scoffs because that’s what Daichi says every time and he never listens—before diving right in, nipping and sucking at Daichi’s sensitive skin in ways that make him keen. His eyes flicker to the window, watching thin layers of snow gather on the pavement with more falling from the sky. Daichi shivers at the thought of the cold, thankful that he’s in the warm car, and groans when Ukai finally lets his hips roll for the first time that night.

“Someone’s awfully eager,” he rumbles into his throat before dropping lower. Rough and calloused hands skirt up to his chest, already raw and red from last night. Ukai huffs a laugh, “Bandaids? Really?”

“I—“ Daichi flushes, covering his nipples with open palms, “They _hurt_ when they rub against my jersey, okay.”

Ukai shrugs and rips both bandaids off. _One, two._ Daichi has to bite his lip to stuff the whimper in his throat because _they’re sensitive, dammit,_ but Ukai has this unrelenting glint in his eye that suggests it’s going to be a rough night. The volleyball coach lets out a satisfied groan at the sight of two hickeys—one over each nipple—before rubbing a heavy thumb over both of them. Daichi shivers.

“’S it still sensitive?” He asks gruffly, eyes trained on Daichi’s chest. The noirette nods, experimentally rolling his hips again when Ukai’s hand moves to meet the other one. Chocolatey brown eyes stay locked on his mid-section in a trance. Like a scope on a target.

A cherry red tongue latches onto a bruised nipple and his teeth tug, dripping wet, and it sends a bolt of electricity up his spine so strong he feels it in the tips of his fingers. His toes curl when Ukai doesn’t stop, hips speeding up as his left thumb flicks at Daichi’s nipple. Daichi’s hands find their way into blond hair again, and Ukai groans when he’s shoved into cleavage face first.

Daichi doesn’t realize how much Ukai’s enjoying this—not until he resurfaces with drool painting the lower half of his face, lips bit purple and eyes unfocused. The noirette almost has to take a step back: to enjoy the view, of course.

Their chests rise and fall, windows blurring at the edges already, as they pant into the negative space. It takes a second for Ukai to come back, mentally speaking, before he starts frantically rummaging around in his back pockets for a condom. Daichi lets out a little squeal when Ukai’s hands snake under his thighs lifts him because he’s sat _in his lap_ _,_ but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for those hips to drop back down, pantless. (Is pantless a word?)

And it takes less than half a second for Ukai to start clawing at Daichi’s own sweatpants, murmuring, “Off, off, get these off, I need to fuck you _now—_ “

“O-Okay, okay,” Daichi says, not really understanding what all the panic is about as he snatches off his sweatpants as quickly as he can without doing too much damage to the tiny place. The second his pants are off, Ukai’s large hands cradle his ass and pull Daichi’s chest closer to his face.

“Fuckin’ love your tits,” he mumbles, confirming the noirette’s suspicions. Daichi’s snort turns into a whimper when Ukai’s butterfly kisses turn into bites. “I dunno what it is,” he kisses a nipple, thumbing over the other, “But it’s sexy.”

“…Thank you?” Daichi replies, not all too sure how to respond. Ukai snorts at his awkward response, and when the boy in his arms jumps at the lubricated finger prodding his entrance. He bites his bottom lip, “You like them so much we’re skipping your favorite part?”

“Yes,” Ukai says, skipping most of the foreplay for once, but they’ve had a little bit, and if Daichi said his cock wasn’t aching for it, he’d be a total liar. So he rocks back on Ukai’s finger, silently wishing there were a second one so he could actually feel something.

On cue, Ukai dips another digit in and curls them,disturbingthe bundle of nerves that make his thighs flex. So, naturally, Ukai does it again and again, and adds another finger and _again_ , until—

“Okay, _okay,_ no more,” Daichi swats at the hand behind him, thighs straining to keep a steady rhythm. The rearview window has long been fogged, and he’s pretty sure Ukai already came in his pants once; if the wet spot on the front of his boxers is anything to go by. Ukai’s attention remains on his chest at all times, and Daichi kind of wants to ask _why_ but worries it’ll ruin the mood. He puts it in his mental _‘things to ask Coach Ukai later’_ box.

Ukai lifts him with a strong arm to hover his entrance above his cock, and Daichi digs his knees into the leather car seat. Surprisingly, the dirty blond doesn’t even have the patience to tease the head of his cock like he usually does, no—he holds Daichi by the hips and guides him down slowly but steadily. Fast enough so it's not teasing **,** but slow enough to make him crave _more_.

“Holy shit,” Daichi grits his teeth, nails digging into Ukai’s heavily muscled shoulders. Ukai’s big, of course he is, but Daichi’s almost positive he’s never felt this big before. His lungs barely have space to expand as he bottoms out.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Ukai spits under his breath, reveling in the way Daichi’s hips draw circles in his lap. The hands around his hips tighten, nestling comfortably atop last week's bruises. Daichi moans as Ukai bucks into him, an—

A familiar tuft of carrot-orange hair rounds the corner of the sciencebuilding, easy to pick out amongst the starch white snow, parking his bike in front of the gym gates. Ukai’s hips still.

“Why’s the hell is Hinata still here?” He pants into Daichi’s neck. The noirette shakes his head.

He gestures to the new outfit and the bedhead, “I think he left something.”

They watch through the front windshield; Daichi cranes his neck to look with Ukai peering over his left shoulder, as they watch Hinata put all his body weight into yanking on the giant gym doors, only to be hindered by the giant chain and lock keeping the doors from separating.

He feels Ukai’s hips twitch before they rock into him, slowly and tentatively, testing the waters. Daichi's hands drop to still the dirty blond’s hips, “ _No_.” He chastises.

Ukai whines, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Sometimes, Daichi feels like _he’s_ the adult in this relationship. “ _Please?_ C’mon…” Ukai groans, grinding his hips up. That’s how it always is. Daichi says _no,_ and then Ukai pouts and whines and _‘c’mon’s_ , and the noirette gives. He’s as malleable as iron in a foundry. 

So, he says nothing when Ukai does another test grind, this time aiming directly for Daichi’s prostate—and succeeding. Keeping an eye on Hinata, he lets himself catch up with Ukai’s crescendoing hips and muffles his moans by biting into a fist. “F-Fuck,” Daichi shudders, looking down to watch their hips meet. And to watch Ukai drool all over his pecs.

Daichi tenses when Hinata’s eyes flit across the parking lot. He fishes into his back pocket for his phone. Daichi’s own phone begins to buzz from his sweatpants pockets. “No,” the noirette keens, and at the same time Ukai positions his hips just right,“No, no, no, _no,_ _fuck—“_

He whimpers when the dirty blond stops, “Well? Aren’t you gonna pick it up?”

Daichi glares at him, but he doubts he looks any more intimidating than a mouse with acock stuffed up his ass. “Are you crazy? No!”

Ukai hums in disappointment, flipping the noirette to face forwards in one, not so smooth, move. The younger whimpers when Ukai’s knees knock his legs open, so he’s seated in his lap again with his back touching the dirty blond’s chest.

“Pick it up,” he commands, pressing a searing heavy hand against Daichi’s back to shove him down. Daichi props himself up with his elbows against the center console, thrown off by the unusual display of aggression—maybe Ukai’s more into this than he thinks. He doesn’t say anything when he blindly fumbles for his ringing cell, and he doesn’t say anything when Ukai doesn’t stop bouncing him on his cock.

“Hel—“ Daichi clears his throat, “Hello?”

“Ah, Daichi!” Hinata says, and the noirette watches his face light up, “Do you think there’s a spare key to the gym somewhere? I left my ball, and I can’t really practice without it…”

Through the pleasure, Daichi snorts. It’s midnight, and Hinata’s worried about _practice?_ He’s about to speak until Ukai wraps a calloused hand to wrench his cock, making his toes curl into the leather seat as he muffles a moan in the fat of his forearm. “U-Uh, I don’t think so. Coach and I are the only ones with the keys.”

“Oh, okay!” Hinata laughs quietly. A pause, and then, “Are you alright?”

“M-Me?” Daichi coughs when Ukai hits his prostate with dangerousaccuracy. He pants, wet and open-mouthed, as Ukai holds the angle and fucks into him with everything he’s got. “No—no, I’m fine. You just woke me up ’s all.”

“Really? You don’t sound tired,” Hinata hums, and Daichi can’t hate that he’s a shit liar more than in this moment. With coach behind him, dog tag singing as he pulls Daichi onto his lap, wide and broad-chested. “You sound kinda sick.”

“No!” He _shouts,_ because Ukai bucks his own hips up to meet the younger’s, the sudden and sharp pleasure taking him by surprise. His balls tighten, and he thinks so does his ass, because Ukai groans then shivers, “No,” he brings it down a notch, “I’m fine, really. Just...groggy.”

Daichi doesn’t even think ‘super’ is in his vernacular, but Hinata seems to shrug it off (literally) before he hears the sharp click of the bike stand. He watches as the carrot head cradles the phone between his shoulder and ear, swinging a leg over the bike seat before saying, “Okay, then. Thanks anyway!”

“Mhm,” is all Daichi manages to get out before his thumb slides over the red button hand before he moans so loud Hinata can probably hear it from the street corner. Ukai starts to fuck into him so hard and fast Daichi sees nothing but white, pleasure making his hands go numb, and eyes flutter. As he screams Ukai’s name at the top of his lungs **,** (he _thinks…_ he can’t quite hear over the ringing in both ears). The older man batters into his prostate thrice more, finishing in a similar manner.

In the heat of the moment, Daichi’s whisked from his recovery position, so he’s facing the dirty blond once again, but only in a flash because before he can blink, Ukai’s lips are on his.

It takes Daichi a few blinks before his eyes flutter shut as well, kissing back with equal pressure. He tries to act like this isn’t weird, like they’ve definitely done this before. No, it’s more of a silent, undiscussed rule _not_ to lock lips. Complicated, just like the rest of this…whatever this is. Daichi crushing after a man twice his age and Ukai needing a nice, tight hole to fuck. Daichi just happens to fit the bill.

Right?

“I like you,” is the first thing that blurts out of Ukai’s bitten red and bleeding lips, panting for breath as his mouth flaps mindlessly, “Sorry if that’s...weird, or something, and we can just go on like I never said this, but I like you. A lot.“

It takes Daichi a second or two for his spirit to re-enter his body before he can reply with an uncharacteristically meek and red-faced, “I…like you too.”

It almost seems like Ukai goes through the same ‘wait what’ process, eyes growing wide and he pulls the noirette in for one more messy, wet lipped kiss.“God,” Ukai groans, licking the bottom of his lip as his eyes flit downwards, “You’re too hot.”

Daichi rolls his eyes when he feels a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh. Luckily for them, it’s Friday. “My place?” He suggests. He always suggests.

The windows are almost as white as the snow outside, the warm and vibrant hum of the car protecting them from cold and the dark and the wet. Their chests heave in sync,sticky skin against sticky skin, and the horns blaring and the city lights shining into outer space.

Ukai grins, wet canine glistening in the full moon, “Fuck yeah.”


End file.
